


i am aiming to be somebody that somebody trusts

by reggievass



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alex Hunter/Diana Berrigan, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon LGBTQ Female Character, F/F, Female Friendship, Femslash February, Gen, Pre-Slash, background Neal Caffrey and Clinton Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reggievass/pseuds/reggievass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You want Hunter to be my Caffrey?” Diana asks slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i am aiming to be somebody that somebody trusts

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be femslash, honest. But then I got caught up in the ways I thought their relationship would progress.  
> However, I do have a sequel outlined. So this is one really, extremely long bit of pre-slash. (sorry)  
> Written for Femslash February.

“Alex Hunter is back,” Peter says.

Diana and Jones swivel their focus around the table to rest on Neal.

“What?” Neal raises his hands beside an innocent smile. “I haven’t seen her.”

Diana snorts.

“This one doesn’t have anything to do with Caffrey,” Peter says. “Alex is looking to make a deal.”

“A deal?” Diana says. “What does she expect after she stole two museum collections of Greek antiquities?”

“And lowered the value of the words ‘I arrested Neal Caffrey’,” Jones adds.

“That didn’t count,” Neal says. “I was set up.”

“You were booked; it counts,” Peter says. “And she expects a deal because she has leverage.”

He clicks the remote and the slide changes.

It’s an image of all the stolen items on wire shelves in a storage facility.

“She kept all of it?” Diana asks.

“Looks that way,” Peter says.

“That should be more than enough to get the DA to go easy,” Diana says.

Peter nods. “That’s already been discussed. The suggested sentence is six months in correctional and a year on parole.”

“Where does the Bureau come in?” Jones asks.

“She wants to spend the six months on work release.” Peter smiles. “With us.”

“What? Like Neal?” Jones asks.

Peter nods.

“You have got to be kidding,” Diana says.

“I think it’s only fair,” Neal says.

Everyone again turns to stare at him.

“What?” he says. “I mean, we did help her steal it in the first place.”

“Which wouldn’t have been a problem if the NYPD lockup had adequate security,” Diana adds.

“At this point, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Peter says. “Hunter is offering a deal, and we have been strongly encouraged to take it.”

Diana leans over to talk to Jones, “Why am I getting the feeling this isn’t the end of the bad news?”

Jones leans over too. “Because he’s wearing his bad news face.”

“I do not have a bad news face,” Peter says loudly. “But if I did, it would be because while Alex is in FBI custody she needs an immediate supervisor.”

Neal smiles. “Well, I could –“

“Zip it,” Peter says.

“Cold.” Neal pouts.

“You’re not an agent.” Diana shrugs.

Neal grins again, this time even wider. “But you are.”

“What?” Diana says.

She looks at Peter who is studying the folder in his hands with far more attention that it deserves.

“Boss. No.” She shakes her head before pointing beside her with her thumb. “What about Jones?”

“Ah, well, you’re really more experienced at this type of thing,” Jones says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re less of a pushover,” Neal says.

“And you come highly recommended by your friends at the State Department.” Peter smiles as if that will make this all better.

“You want Hunter to be my Caffrey?” Diana asks slowly.

“I object,” Neal says. “We consultants are not interchangeable.”  
“Yeah,” Jones says. “She’s never been caught in the US before.”

“Hey!”

Diana ignores the bickering to focus on Peter. “But she broke into my house.”

“Allegedly,” all three men say at once.

“Six months?” Diana says.

“That’s it,” Peter says. “Just six months.”

“I can do six months,” Diana says as if she’s convincing herself. “But that’s it.” She points a finger at Peter.

“Promise,” he says sticking a pen in her raised hand and sliding over a form. “If you just sign there.”

She signs and he snatches the page away from her as if he thinks she’ll take it back.

“I’ll let you know when everything’s processed and you can pick her up,” Peter says before hurrying out for the room.

Diana turns back to the table to see Caffrey and Jones exchanging cash.

“Oh, come on,” she says. “When did you even have time to bet?”

“It’s a standing thing,” Neal says shrugging.

“I always bet on you,” Jones says.

“That means I know who you bet on.” Diana raises an eyebrow and stares at Neal.

“I have to bet on Peter,” Neal says. “He controls my radius.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I assure you,” Neal says placing a hand to his chest, “my heart always bets on you.”

“You are so full of it,” Diana says, but she laughs as she stands up. “At least I know who my real friends are.” She bumps elbows with Jones as he stands up too.

“It’s not my fault Caffrey doesn’t follow the basic rules.”

“Which are?”

“Always bet on black.”

Diana winces and shakes her head.

“No?”

“Spending too much time around Peter.”

“Now, that is a low blow,” Neal says.

###

Diana sits in her car parked outside the correctional facility, a file folder in her lap propped against the steering wheel.

Her eyes skim the page flicking up to check the area periodically.

She’s just looked up again when Alex Hunter steps out into the sun.

As the gate closes behind her, Alex scans the parking lot. Her eyes settle unerringly on Diana’s car, and she walks over.

Diana puts the folder away and gets out to greet her.

“Hunter,” she says with her arms resting on top of the open door.

Alex tips her head in acknowledgement. “Agent.”

Diana looks her up and down.

This close, the wear from her short time spent in prison shows. Her hair pulled back in a messy twist seems more an inevitability than a fashion choice, and no makeup covers the bags beneath her eyes.

“Let me see the anklet,” Diana says.

The slight smile Alex was wearing fades just before she ducks her head. She steps on the back of her right boot with the other so it stays still as she raises her foot out and reaches down to tug up the hem of her jeans.

“All right,” Diana says. She nods her head at the car. “Get in.”

Neither of them speaks as they drive back towards the city.

#

“Nicer than I expected,” Alex says as she eyes her new fourth floor walkup.

“Still a little out of your accustomed range of five star hotels.” Diana hands over the keys.

Alex shrugs. “Well. Better than prison.”

“So,” Diana says. “You’re allowed a five mile circle around this apartment overlapping with a five mile circle around the FBI building. Your anklet will beep and the light will turn yellow when you’re within ten yards of the perimeter. Any questions?”

“Why do I get this apartment that’s actually decent? Why do I get a larger radius?”

“Larger than Neal’s, you mean?” Diana clarifies.

Alex nods.

“We put him in a rundown, rent by day place, which was the best our money could afford within three miles of the FBI.”

“Prime real estate.”

“Exactly. I requested moving you further out, so hopefully you’d stay put.”

“You don’t want me searching for elderly benefactors at thrift stores?”

“Not really, no.”

Alex considers this as if she’s looking for a hidden motive. Then she says, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Diana’s already backing towards the door. “I’ll be by tomorrow at eight to pick you up for work. Be out front.”

Alex turns away from Diana to look around the space.

The move would seem casual, but the tension in her shoulder betrays her discomfort with exposing her back to someone she doesn’t trust.

“See you then, Agent,” Alex says.

“Hunter.” Diana closes the door behind her.

The lock clicks into place before she leaves the hallway.

###

Alex comes down the cement steps to the street as Diana’s car pulls to a stop by the curb.

Today, the waves of her low bun are smooth.

She’s traded the jeans and sweater for slim black trousers and a navy blazer, though she still has a scarf looped casually around her neck.

Diana wears one of her many interchangeable grey suits and sips on a cup of coffee as Alex walks around to get in the car.

“You didn’t get me one?” Alex says eyeing the cup.

“My budget doesn’t include buying convicts coffee. You can have some at the office.”

“Yum.” Alex smiles sarcastically.

Diana rolls her eyes and hides the quick quirk of her own lips behind the cup as she drives away.

When they arrive on the twenty-first floor, the bullpen’s nearly empty.

“Didn’t figure the FBI for stragglers,” Alex says as she steps through the glass door Diana holds open.

Diana doesn’t respond. She sets her briefcase by her desk near the stairs, and sits down to log on to her computer.

Alex stands next to her.

Diana looks up. “I’m not going to put my password in while you’re looking.”

“Sorry,” Alex says. “Just wondering where I’m supposed to sit.”

“Pull a chair over.” Diana waves at the chairs around the table in the break area.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get a desk?”

Diana shakes her head typing now as Alex walks over to grab a chair.

She stops to fill a cup with coffee before bringing both back over. “Neal gets a desk.”

“Put it there,” Diana points to the side of her desk out of the flow of traffic. “And Caffrey’s on the four-year plan.”

“Ah.” Alex sits in her newly placed chair and sips her coffee. “Gah,” she says. “That is disgusting.”

Diana grins. “Yep. It is.”

“You are cruel,” Alex says. She folds her legs up to sit cross-legged in the chair. “What are we doing?”

“We are going over the financial records of a company whose CFO we suspect is embezzling.” Diana turns to face her, stern look curtailing any sarcastic reply Alex was about to give.

Alex leans back in her chair, and doesn’t say anything at all.

Diana sighs. “The files are in a cart over there,” she tilts her head to point at the stacks while grabbing a post-it note and marker. “This is the number.”

Alex takes the paper from her and stands. “I’ll be right back then.”

Diana watches her go with a look of confusion at her easy compliance.

By the time Alex turns back around to push over the folder-filled cart, Diana’s forehead is smooth again.

She reaches to divide the files between them.

Alex sits back down at her side of the desk, reaching across to grab a pen and drinking her coffee at the same time.

When Alex settles back in her chair with her legs crossed and pen in hand, Diana glances back up at her before quickly returning her own focus to the files.

A few hours have passed and Diana has shed her suit jacket when Peter calls her into his office.

“You needed something, boss?”

Peter smiles overly cheerful. “Just wanted to see how things are going. With Hunter.”

Diana hesitates a moment. “Good.”

“Really?” He drops his fake pleasant look for real surprise.

“So far? Yeah,” Diana says. “She’s done what I asked, and her only complaints have been about the state of the coffee.”

Peter laughs softly at that.

“Compared to Caffrey,” Diana continues, “she’s no problem at all.” She turns around to look out through the glass. “But it is day one.”

Neal has taken her absence as an invitation to make himself at home on the corner of her desk.

Alex leans back in her chair holding files in her hands she must have moved when Neal sat down.

“Is that all?” Diana asks Peter.

She barely flicks her eyes back to see his nod before she heads out and down the steps.

Neal sees Diana a beat too late to smoothly exit, so he smiles at her with his wide, too innocent grin.

“Get off my desk, Caffrey,” Diana says.

She waits for Neal to stand before sitting down.

“Now, go away,” she says.

Alex smiles and looks at Neal.

He pouts. “I was just talking.”

“You can talk on your break,” Diana says. “Some of us are working.”

Alex sets her folder back down on her side of the desk and pulls out the pen tucked behind her ear to make a note.

Neal leans against the desk and looks over her shoulder while resting his hand on the back of her chair.

“You’re working the embezzling case,” Neal says. “Thrilling.” He straightens.

Diana rolls her eyes as he turns to walk away.

Just before he gets out of range, Alex grabs the back of his jacket.

He jerks to a stop and turns around confused.

Alex reaches her hand to pull a yellow origami flower from the back folds of her scarf. She twirls it once in her fingers and slides it into his pocket.

For a moment, Neal’s grin fades, but it reappears brighter than before as he turns and saunters back to his desk.

Alex looks at Diana expectantly.

Diana’s eyes stay focused on budget reports, and her mouth stays closed, so Alex returns her focus to her own folder looking for discrepancies in paperwork.

At the end of the day, Diana closes her last folder and looks up at the clock.

It’s an hour after they have to be there, but Alex hadn’t mentioned it.

“All right,” Diana says standing. “I think we’ve found enough discrepancies to bring this to Peter tomorrow.”

“Not right now?” Alex asks as she too stands before stretching her back out with her arms far above her head.

Diana glances away and picks up her notes to put in her briefcase. “This one’s not a runner. Peter and Caffrey can handle it tomorrow.”

They walk together to the elevators and Diana pushes the down button.

“Peter and Caffrey?” Alex repeats. “Not Diana and Hunter?”

Diana stops looking at the blinking number showing the rising elevator to smile at Alex.

“No,” she says. “I don’t think so.”

The elevator arrives and they get in.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. “I feel like I’m missing something. Why aren’t we bringing this guy in?”

“Since I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” Diana says, “I requested office duty.”

“Oh. That’s…fair, I guess.” This time Alex looks at the numbers tracking their way down. “For how long?” she asks.

“Indefinitely,” Diana says.

Alex turns to look at her with eyebrows raised. “You’re stepping out of the game, Agent?”

“No,” Diana says. “I’m keeping you out of the field.” The doors open and Diana heads for the parking deck. Alex follows as she keeps talking.

“If there’s a need to bring your consulting skills to a location, that’s fine. But I don’t want you going undercover or into a potentially violent situation. Not while you’re supposed to be under my supervision.”

Alex hangs back.

Diana turns around. “What?”

“I can take a cab,” Alex says, “or the subway. You don’t have to drive me home. I’m not a runner.” She echoes the tones of Diana’s earlier statement about the fraudulent CFO.

“It’s on my way.” Diana stands still until Alex steps forward again.

“This isn’t how Peter handles Neal,” Alex says when they reach the car.

“I’m not Peter,” Diana says getting in. “And you’re not Neal.” She ducks her head to look through the passenger side window. “You getting in?”

Alex opens the door. “If it’s on your way.”

###

Her second week with the White Collar Division sees Alex hiding a smirk behind the folder in her hand.

Diana taps a pen against the desk while she scrolls through pages on the screen.

Any agent passing by makes sure to leave plenty of room around her desk.

Alex closes the file she’s working on and picks up another from the stack by Diana’s keyboard.

Diana catches her staring from the corner of her eye.

Alex smiles.

“What?” Diana says, short and defensive.

Alex looks at her a moment as if considering whether or not to speak. “You should go back on active duty.”

Diana snorts. “Yeah, you’d love that.”  
Alex rolls her eyes and drops the file on the desk hard enough it lands with a solid thump.

“This room is full of agents who can make sure I stay sitting in this corner, if that’s how little you trust me. But I’m pretty sure you’re going to smash some skulls any minute now, and it’d be better for everyone if the people you take your frustration out on deserve it.”

Diana opens her mouth, but doesn’t speak. After a second, she sighs and leans back in her chair to study the ceiling. “You’re right,” she says quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. “What was that?”

Diana cuts her eyes at her. “Don’t push it.”

Alex laughs.

Some of the agents in the room stop pretending they’re not watching.

Neither Alex nor Diana seems to notice the attention. When Diana stands up however, everyone quickly looks away.

She doesn’t stop to terrorize any of them, but heads up the steps and through Peter’s open office door.

Jones, who sits parked on the edge of Caffrey’s desk, passes over a ten-dollar bill.

###

A morning a couple weeks later, Diana and Alex come in to find two cupcakes sitting on their desk.

The note propped between them reads, “Happy Anniversary,” but someone drew an arrow between the two words to add “one month.”

Alex and Diana both stop to stare at the display.

Diana eyes the cupcakes suspiciously. “Caffrey?” she says.

“Probably,” Alex says.

They both sit down in their chairs.

Diana pushes her cupcake aside.

Alex picks up the note. “Huh.”

“What?” Diana doesn’t look away from her monitor as she keys in her password.

“Nothing,” Alex says quickly. “I just hadn’t realized.”

Diana looks up sharply.

Alex doesn’t meet her eyes as she unwraps the cupcake towards her side of the desk.

The cake is a soft pink. “Strawberry,” Alex says. “It’s definitely Neal.”

Diana makes an inquisitive noise, and Alex glances up.

“It’s my favorite.”

“Did you really forget?” Diana asks.

“Sorry if it ruins your image of me, but I don’t keep a grease pencil tally of days on the wall.”

“Oh, it does,” Diana says. “I feel like I don’t know you at all anymore.”

Alex ignores her and bites into the cupcake. When she pulls it away from her mouth, she has a dot of frosting on her nose.

Diana laughs. “You’ve got something.” She points to her own nose. “Right there.”

Alex tries to wipe it off with the back of her hand.

Diana licks the pad of her thumb and reaches over to clean off the smudge.

“You did not just do that,” Alex says.

“Of course not.” Diana grins. “It’s Neal’s fault for not providing napkins.”

Alex smiles back even as she shakes her head in exasperation.

“I’ve got to do everything around here?” Neal says standing by the desk.

Both women look surprised to see him so close.

“Where’d you come from?” Diana asks.

“My ears were burning.” He grins. “Aren’t you gonna eat yours,” he says to Diana. “It’s your favorite.”

“I doubt that,” she says. “I don’t really like cake.”

“I know.” Neal bounces a little on his feet. “It’s a muffin with cream cheese.”

“You are invasion of privacy personified,” Diana grumbles, but she reaches to pull off the wrapper anyway.

“You love me!” Neal says over his shoulder as he walks away.

###

Two months pass unheralded by cards or confections, and then one day, Peter jogs out of his office.

“Jones, Diana, I need you on this,” he calls out before he reaches the steps.

Diana stands quickly. She takes her gun from her case and checks that it is loaded before sliding it into her shoulder holster.

Peter is already going through the doors to wait for an elevator, so she speaks to Jones.

“What’s going on?” She shrugs on the holster and covers it with her jacket.

“Not sure,” Jones says as he checks his own sidearm. “I think it has something to do with the case Neal went undercover for.” He goes to join Peter.

Diana turns hesitating to face Alex who sits in her spot noticeably quiet.

“I’ll be good,” Alex says with a smile, though her eyes look worried.

Diana nods stopping to tap on Agent Westley’s desk as she passes. “Watch out for –” she starts.

“I got it,” Westley says.

“Diana,” Peter yells from the elevator bay.

She jogs across the floor without looking back.

Alex unfolds her legs from her lap and puts them on the desk crossed at the ankles, anklet side up.

She grins at Westley, teeth shining, and he quickly looks away.

The elevator opens with a ding, and Alex glances up to catch Diana’s frown through the glass doors.

Diana points at the feet on her desk and waves her hand in a shooing motion while exaggeratedly mouthing the words, “Feet. Off.”

Alex shakes her head in mock confusion.

Diana rolls her eyes and joins Peter in the elevator.

At the scene, Diana quickly assesses the situation.

When the gunman takes off, she runs towards him.

Busy looking over his shoulder, he misses her coming from the side until the moment she tackles him.

They both fall to the ground. Diana knocks his gun away and holsters her own.

She pulls one of his arms behind his back and cuffs it, but when she reaches for the other, he throws his weight to the side and swings wildly.

The loose end of the handcuffs catches the right side of her face splitting the skin of her cheekbone just below the eye.

Diana grabs hold of the man’s head and smashes it into the ground.

While he is dazed, she finishes cuffing him.

“You okay?” Peter asks as he stops by her side breathing hard from the run.

She hefts the guy to his feet. His face is bleeding from where she shoved it at the ground.

“Fine,” she says. “Stop worrying.”

Peter nods and grabs the man’s elbow to pull him away jerking him harder than necessary making him to stumble to keep up.

Jones is at Diana’s shoulder.

“You cool?” he asks.

She jerks a bit at the sound of his voice. “Fine,” she says.

“Uh-huh.” He folds his arms across his chest. “You’re bleeding.”

Diana touches the blood beading on her cheek. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re still gonna let me put something on that,” Jones says, “before you go home early with pain killers and a bag of ice.”

Diana crosses her arms and stares him down. She raises her eyebrows for a second before wincing and settling her face in a more neutral position

 It does nothing to negate the tone of her words. “Since when were you the boss of me?”

“Oh, since never,” Jones says raising his hands defensively. “That is a job you could not pay me for, but I’m pretty sure Peter’ll back me up on this one.”

Diana unfolds her arms and drops them by her side. “All right. Get on with it.”

Jones grins. “Yes, ma’am,” he mocks as he pulls out the first aid kit from the trunk.

Diana leans against the back of the car as he wipes off the side of her face and dabs the cut with antiseptic.

Finished, he puts the kit away.

“Jones got you patched up?” Peter asks as he walks over.

“Yes,” Diana says. “The good doctor does excellent work.”

“She’s taking the rest of the afternoon off,” Jones says.

“Yes, she is,” Peter agrees.

“She is getting very irritated,” Diana says. “And she was already extremely irritated to start with.”

Jones laughs.

Neal walks over to them his default smile disappearing when he sees Diana’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” Diana states definitively. “I am not saying it again.”

“She hates repeating herself,” Neal says leaning in conspiratorially to Jones.

Jones nods. “I heard that.”

Diana shakes her head and turns to walk to her car.

“Somebody can drop you,” Peter calls after her.

“Thanks,” she says turning to walk backwards so she can face them as she talks, “but I left some things at the office.”

“Do not take any work home with you!” Peter shouts as she climbs into her car.

She waves in acknowledgement before pulling away from the crime scene.

Her eye is already bruising when she gets to the office, so she keeps her mirrored aviators on.

“You okay?” Westley says as soon as Diana walks through the doors with her obviously smudged suit and bandaged face.

She stares at him blankly, so he keeps talking.

“We heard you got hit, but they said you were fine so – ”

“So why are you asking me?” Diana says.

“Sorry.”

Diana stops at her desk.

Three different sets of case files rest lined up neatly. A note taped to each stack in Alex’s handwriting identifies the culprit of each set of crimes.

“Where is she?” Diana asks.

Westley startles when she looks at him.

“Bathroom,” he says.

Diana grabs her case from beside the desk and heads that way.

When she enters the restroom, it’s empty except for Alex.

Alex sits on the counter folding yellow squares into animals, fish and frogs and cranes. Some are soggy from resting near the sink.

Only her hands move, flicking quickly as she pinches precise folds.

Diana leans against the tiles pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head.

Alex finishes the one in her hands, an incongruous flower, and drops it carelessly to the side before looking up.

“You okay?” Alex asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Diana says.

“You’re the one with the shiner.”

“You’re the one with the paper menagerie.”

“Touché.” Alex hops down and turns around.

Both their faces would be visible in the mirror, if either of them looked up.

Alex sweeps the pieces into a pile squishing some and tearing others.

Diana steps up quickly to stop her with a hand on her arm. “You’re throwing them away?”

“What else should I do with them?” Alex says with a shrug, and Diana’s hand slides off.

“At least recycle them,” Diana says. “You’re killing a tree.”

“A sapling, maybe.” Alex looks up and meets Diana’s eyes with a grin.

Diana smiles back, shaking her head, and helps her gather the bits of paper.

They walk outside into the hallway and drop the origami animals in the recycling bin.

Alex turns to head back towards the desks.

“Do you need anything?” Diana asks stopping her.

“No. Why?”

Diana holds up her briefcase. “I get the rest of the day off, and that means you do too.”

Alex looks doubtful, but she follows Diana to the elevator anyway.

When they get to the parking lot, Alex holds out her hand. “Keys, please.”

“You’re joking,” Diana says.

“No,” Alex says. “Your vision and reaction times could be impaired. I’m driving, or I’m calling you a cab.”

Diana crosses her arms. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one in charge of you.”

Alex tips her head to the side. “I guess you’re right,” she says. “I’ll just call Peter.”

“Oh, you are definitely joking now.” Diana’s confident tone trails off as Alex pulls out her phone.

She’s standing close enough to see the screen as Alex scrolls through the contacts.

“All right,” Diana says. “You win.” She chucks the keys at Alex’s head.

Alex snags them out of the air easily and has the good grace not to smirk.

###

Diana and Alex laugh as they walk into the bullpen weeks later.

“Diana,” Peter says.

They both look up to see him standing on the landing outside his office.

“Can I see you for a second?”

“Sure, boss.” Diana sets down her case, and goes up the stairs leaving Alex sitting down at the desk.

“What is it?” Diana asks.

“Shut the door.”

She does as Peter says and sits down in front of his desk when he nods at the chair.

“Do you know where Alex was yesterday?” Peter asks.

Diana frowns. “Yeah. She was at the office, I dropped her off at her place, she went out to a restaurant, and then she went back home.”

Peter looks surprised.

Diana shrugs. “I check her tracking data every morning. What’s this about?”

Peter sighs. “Something’s missing from evidence.”

“And you think Hunter took it?” Diana folds her arms across her chest.

“She’s stolen things from lockup before,” he points out.

“Yes, and that’s why she’s serving time. What makes you think it was her?”

“You can’t know that it wasn’t,” Peter says. “She could have taken it while she was working yesterday.”

Diana ignores this. “What’s missing?”

“The painting we checked in yesterday from the Arnold case.”

“The one that’s about four feet tall?” Diana snorts. “I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed her putting something like that in the back of my car.”

“Diana,” Peter tries unsuccessfully to interrupt.

“And what about surveillance?” she talks over him. “I know ours is more secure than the NYPD’s, and they had footage.”

“Diana. You can’t know that she didn’t take it,” he repeats. “Systems can be hacked.”

She leans back in the chair and looks at him evenly. “You’re right,” she says. “I can’t know Alex didn’t steal the painting, just like you can’t know Neal didn’t.”

“That’s –”

Diana cuts him off. “And we can’t know that any other person in this office didn’t take it either.”

Peter frowns. “Your personal feelings are impeding your judgment.”

“Really?” she says the words coming on the edge of a bitter laugh. “You are saying that to me? I’ve never broken the law to protect Hunter.”

“You are way out of line,” Peter says.

“No,” Diana says. “I’m really not. In the almost five months now that she’s been here, she hasn’t committed any crimes.”

“That we know of,” Peter says.

Diana narrows her eyes at him. They stare each other down across the desk.

Peter speaks first. “I want to give Hunter a polygraph.”

“You have the authority to ask her,” Diana says. “She has the right to say no.”

Peter closes his eyes and rubs his hand across his forehead.

“I’ll look into the theft,” Diana offers, “because it’s my job, and this is a crime. But I am not going to assume I already know who’s guilty.”

“All right,” Peter says letting his hand fall away from his face. “All right. That’s all I could ask for. But if you find evidence against her?”

“Then I will turn it over to you.” Diana stands up. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Peter says resigned. “Sure.”

When Diana returns to her desk, she sits down heavily in her chair and immediately brings up the surveillance footage.

“Everything okay?” Alex says.

“Great.” Diana winds back so she can start the feed with Westley and Jones bringing in the painting.

“‘Cause it looked pretty heated in there,” Alex continues. “Neal and Jones were running odds.”

Diana sets the video to fast-forwarding and looks up.

Neal ducks behind Jones, who shrugs.

“They do that,” Diana says to Alex.

Then raising her voice, she says, “Hey, Caffrey.”

Neal casually straightens as if he were not just trying to hide.

“This time,” Diana says, “you definitely owe Jones.”

Jones cheers.

Neal frowns as he sullenly counts over the money.

Alex leans in closer. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Diana gives her a brief smile. “I’m okay.” She pauses the video and stands. “Come on. We’ve got a case to solve.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Alex says unfolding from her seat to follow her.

Diana shakes her head ruefully in reply.

 “You trust me around evidence?” Alex says surprised when she realizes where they’re going.

“Shouldn’t I?” Diana replies. She flashes her badge at the camera, and the agent at the door opens it.

Diana pulls a clipboard off the wall and checks the numbers written there with the ones assigned electronically. They seem to match, and she takes the clipboard with her.

“What are we looking for?” Alex asks.

“The painting from the Arnold case,” Diana says.

Alex’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “The one Peter and Neal brought in yesterday? Why are we looking for it?”

“Actually, Agents Jones and Westley checked it in, and it’s gone missing.”

“Since yesterday?” Alex says.

“Yep.” Diana doesn’t look away from her careful study of aisle markers.

“Oh.” Alex stops. “Peter thinks I stole it.”

It’s not a question, and Diana doesn’t answer it.

“It doesn’t matter what Peter thinks,” she says instead. “It matters what the evidence says.”

“And that is?”

“There’s nothing to suggest the painting left the room, so all things being equal…” Diana trails off.

“The simplest solution tends to be the right one,” Alex finishes. “You think it’s still here.”

“Right.” Diana stops in front of a shelf and double checks her numbers again. “According to the records, this is where the painting should be.”

There is a noticeable empty space where the item is definitely not.

“Right,” Alex echoes.

They both stare at the spot for a moment.

“Wait,” Alex says brightening suddenly. “You said Jones and Westley brought it in?”

Diana nods.

“Did Agent Westley fill out the form? The original paper one, I mean?”

“This isn’t Jones’ handwriting, so probably,” Diana says.

“Can I see?”

Diana hands over the file and steps closer to look at it at the same time. “What are you thinking?” she asks.

Alex taps the number that looks like a seven. “That’s a one,” she says. “When he’s writing quickly, Westley draws a big uptake before the line down.”

Diana leans back to look at her appraisingly. “And how do you know that?”

“Just because I’m reformed, doesn’t mean I’ve stopped paying attention.”

“Uh-huh.” Diana takes the clipboard back, and heads back out to the aisle.

“I promise I have never forged Agent Westley’s handwriting,” Alex says.

“Uh-huh,” Diana says again, but she’s smiling.

Alex smiles too when they reach the correctly numbered spot. “There it is.”

“Yep,” Diana says pulling out her phone to take a picture and then sending it to Peter. “There it is.”

Her phone beeps with a reply before they get back upstairs.

“And the judge says?” Alex asks.

Diana glances at the screen. “We get the rest of the day off.” She frowns. “That seems a bit much for an apology.”

“I think he’s frightened of your righteous wrath.”

“Fear, respect.” Diana waves her hand back and forth. “It’s a fine line.”

When they get back to the 21st floor, they’re laughing again.

###

Diana’s phone rings just as she’s about to get in the car for work.

It’s Alex.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Alex sounds tired, her words flat. “I was wondering if I could not come in today?”

“What’s wrong?” Diana asks brow furrowing. “Are you sick?”

“No.” Alex sighs. “I’m not. It’s just… you know what, never mind.”

“What?” Diana says.

“Forget I said anything.” Alex takes a deep breath.

When she speaks again, her voice is unnaturally cheery. “I might be a bit late coming down, sorry,” she says. “Call me when you’re here.”

“Alex –” Diana starts to speak, but the call is disconnected.

Diana pulls out onto the street and drives the short distance to Alex’s apartment at a speed well above the limit.

As warned, Alex isn’t outside the building when Diana pulls up, but instead of calling, she parks and gets out.

Diana pauses to listen when she reaches the door and hears nothing from inside. She knocks.

“Hunter?” she says. “Alex, are you okay?”

Alex opens the door.

With the circles under her eyes, and the way her thin frame seems buried in a sweater, she looks a little like she did that first day outside the prison.

“I’m fine,” she says smiling, but her eyes are flat. “You can sit over there, if you want. I’ve just got to change.” She waves at the two chairs pulled up to the bistro table in the kitchen area.

Diana sniffs the air. “Were you baking?”

“Cookies,” Alex says muffled by the sweater she pulls over her head. “We can take them to the office, I won’t eat them.”

Diana turns her head away as Alex changes.

She walks over to the kitchen counter to see the plate piled high with cookies. “What kind are they?”

“Double chocolate chip,” Alex says from close behind her.

Diana turns around.

Alex replaced her sweater with a silk tank with decorative folds. She avoids Diana’s eyes as she twists her hair up and sticks the hairpins in her hand into the messy bun.

“Alex,” Diana says.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t,” Diana speaks over her. “Don’t lie to me.”

Alex finally meets her eyes. She hesitates before glancing away again. “Today’s my grandfather’s birthday,” she says.

Diana pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and sits down.

After a moment, Alex does the same.

“My grandfather.” She pauses. “He was the one who told me about the sub, the music box, everything.”

Diana nods.

“He raised me after my parent’s died. Every year, on his birthday, we always had double chocolate chip cookies because they were his favorite. Then we’d go to Coney Island, and he’d tell me the story again.”

She half-smiles. “When I was teenager, I thought it was stupid. I’d sit there and listen to the story I’d heard so many times before, and try not to look too bored.”

All traces of a smile vanish. “He died when I was eighteen. He was sick for a while, but …” She shakes her head. “Anyway, every year since then, I do the same thing. I make his favorite cookies and I go to Coney Island to look at the ocean.

Alex waves a hand to the cookie-laden plate. “I’d already made the cookies before I realized I couldn’t go.”

She shrugs and stands. “I’ll be okay though, really. Thanks for listening to me, but we should really –”

“Why can’t you go?” Diana looks up to ask. “You can have the day off.”

Alex stares at her.

“It’s outside of your radius,” Diana says slowly as she understands. She stands up. “I’ll take you.”

“What?”

“You can go if I’m escorting you,” Diana explains. “Let’s go.”

Alex’s confusion shows on her face. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why would you do that?” Alex’s eyes are wide, almost angry. “How do you know I’m not lying to you? This could all be a con.”

“But it’s not,” Diana says with certainty.

“I don’t understand,” Alex says.

“You’re my friend,” Diana says as if it should be obvious. “I trust you.”

The words fall loudly in the sudden stillness of the room.

Alex blinks. “Oh,” she says. “I… trust you too.” The words are unsure, almost a question, but at the end of the statement, firm.

“All right,” Diana says. “Let’s get going before any more emotions show up. I happen to have a tough guy reputation to maintain.”

Alex smiles. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal,” Diana says.

Alex grabs her coat off the back of the door, and Diana grabs a handful of cookies.

Alex raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Diana says. “I like double chocolate chip.”

Alex shakes her head, but she’s smiling as, together, they walk out the door.


End file.
